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[22 Apr 2009|05:09am] |
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Image by ~Kiiea at DeviantART.
I am very close to coming to the decision of letting my right labret piercing close. I'll be doing this for several reasons such as the positioning. I plan on obtaining snakebites, but with the current positioning and regardless of the ball diameter, it would make the area around my mouth seem narrower. My only issue with doing this is I'm far too attached to the one facial piercing I had gotten almost three years ago. Either way, I have plenty of time to come up with a solution since money is tight. I am, however, getting my septum around my birthday which I'm so anxious to get!
Before I continue on with yet another exhausted entry, I have decided to supply relevant images in order to spice up my journal. As a disclaimer, I in no way, shape, or form claim to have produced any of the images except for the obvious hue edits unless stated otherwise. A resource link or notice will be posted under each image.
To continue, over the course of the weekend, O'Halloran and I hung out by biking and walking across parts of Altamonte Springs, Florida for several hours. This would normally have me pooped by the end of the day, but I never felt so pumped up in my life! My legs were awfully angry with me, though. We plan to make a habit out of this in order to tone up our flabby and misshapen bodies. (Exaggerated, obviously. We're pretty fit enough as it is!)
Image by ~Uncherished at DeviantART.
The following night, I ended up waking past two in the morning due to a nightmare. Now, before I go on, I have had zombies on the mind a lot recently from how the infection became to how should I escape. All my plans have ultimately failed in a mental state of mind, but I have conjured up a few ways as to how I could get my hands on much needed resources.
Anyway, this nightmare had me rolling around in bed with tears flowing down my cheeks. No matter how much I would roll around, I would not wake up. This is the first time I have had a nightmare and woken up with little to no memory on the chronological order, so for those of you who actually read my pointless entries, prepare to be utterly confused. However, I recall peering over a large brick wall that looked over Sarah Gidus's house. For some odd reason, buildings are never quite what they appear in a conscious state of mind, but rather larger and with medieval gothic-like qualities. I don't know why I bothered to cling myself to the wall to look into Sarah's backyard, but after I hopped back down and my feet stomped into a pile of leaves, pills were discovered. Oddly enough, it was "happy pills" that looked like the smiley pin from Watchmen. (Of course Watchmen do not own the common yellow smiley face image, but considering that was the last thing I've seen involving such an image--well, you get the idea.) These pills were deliberately put into the water system which caused many who recently drank from it to catch the virus.
Skipping around at this point, my grandmother helps another carry a recent victim to the pit that all the infected are immediately shot on target. I warn her not to touch it, but she continues to carry it off anyway. Suddenly, the victim lifts its head and sinks its teeth within my grandmother's neck. This is where I could literally feel the tears burst out of my tear ducts. In a very action-esque cliche movie, she cocks her head back and says, "it'll be alright". Within the dream, I'm standing there with my jaw wide open while looking like a blubbering baby. In a matter of seconds, the individual who was also carrying the victim whips out a gun and shoots my grandmother from the back of her skull. This happens very quickly, but I could visibly see the bullet insert from one side of the skull and through the other. She collapses to the ground. Could this dream become anymore like a 80's horror flick?
Off to yet another scene which now involves my mother. I do not remember how she became infected herself, but her death will not go in vain--at least in the dream anyway. There's no words to describe how perfect her departure was and if there is, it's not in my vocabulary! I mean, you can see the gunner in the background and my mother from the torso up in the foreground. Mind you, this scene is in slow motion which makes it that much cooler. The trigger is pulled, but the sound of the bullet releasing from the barrel is hardly heard. It enters my mother's skull as if it were plopping itself through a plate of jello and exits out with a flurry of white powder and soul-like wisps. Suddenly, the scene freezes while the wisps form into the grim reaper. If you were to blink an eye at this point, you would have missed the reaper lunging himself onto my mother's body because in that very instant, neither were seen again.
Closing this nightmare to an end, my sister, Courtney calls me from a friend's cellphone. She sounds frantic and scared. I ask several questions as to how she got so-and-so's phone, why is she outside, and other needless questions that when answered made absolute zero sense. I then tell her that she must be close to so-and-so's apartment and to get there as fast as possible, but before I could allow myself to finish the sentence, I cut myself off. "He might rape you." All I hear from the other end is a loud whisper of a "what". "Actually, I rather you be raped than to be eaten alive by an infected monster. Go!" I could hear her running through the phone as she asks me if I'm sure that this is the only option.
In the end, I fell back asleep around five in the morning only to have the dream continue, but with my grandfather involved. I don't remember much of that one at all except I was now with about five close friends in a Hummer. Meeting up with my grandfather later turned into a soap opera of "nana is dead" which only lead to more tears both within and out of the dream.
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[17 Apr 2009|04:52am] |
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Nothing particularly outstanding came about today, but I did hang out with my sister right after my GED class. What a relief it is to be out of "study hall" for the rest of this week.
Today's Word: ephemeral –adjective
lasting a very short time; short-lived; transitory.
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[16 Apr 2009|04:19am] |
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I have decided to supply a word everyday in my entries to further enhance my vocabulary. Considering this will be on a daily basis, most of my entries will have little to no importance. Embrace yourselves.
Today's Word: premeditate –verb (used with object), -tat⋅ed, -tat⋅ing.
to meditate, consider, or plan beforehand: to premeditate a murder.
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[14 Apr 2009|09:46pm] |
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Miami is a city I would hope to never go back to again. The citizens of Miami are corrupt, money-hungry, and walking carbon-copies of skin cancer. Turned up noses next to their overpriced cars is often what I had seen throughout my weekend. It had gotten much worse when an employee of the Monty's Stone Crab & Seafood Restaurants had Christian's car towed while we were enjoying our afternoon at South Beach. The employee earns twenty-five dollars for each car he sends in at an expense of over two hundred dollars for the victim.
Christian and I are both very cautious about our surroundings, but we hadn't even thought of reading the signs in the car garage that day considering his aunt has parked there many times without problems. We're just two lucky individuals, I suppose.
To continue on with this dreaded tale that I wish ever-so-much was make-believe and nothing more, neither of us had cash in our pockets. Not to mention that Christian's wallet was locked in the car along with my camera and his iPod. We had to walk from a little before 5th Street all the way to 18th Street. This is a ten minute travel by car, and we were stuck on foot. Not to mention that this foot travel was barefoot every now and than. (We had two pairs of sandals, but one pair was like walking on a bed of nails. We much rather have risked stepping on pebbles than wearing that uncomfortable footwear.)
Eventually, we made it to 18th Street. I tried my hardest to keep my anxiety levels low so I wouldn't both cry like a blubbering baby and risk a panic attack. It wasn't until an employee of the towing company said they could not release Christian's car without a mailed-in letter of his insurance policy. I let it all out. This must have guilt-tripped the owner of the company considering she said there might be another way.
Normally, Christian or myself would have connected what the worker of the company had told us to utter bullshit. Anyone can forged a letter as long as it had the proper content and faxing would have been no different. They only wanted the insurance policy mailed in so the car would sit over night and jack up the price. However, neither of us had our wits about us since that incident.
Following what the owner told us, we walked back to 16th Street to a Fed-Ex/Kinkos to print out the policy. As we were waiting around for the pedestrian light to change to the white walking sign, we were asked if we would like to donate blood by the Red Cross AND if we had spare change by a homeless person. We felt terrible turning both questions down, but we couldn't bare helping anyone else before helping ourselves.
In the end, we got the car back after I nearly flipped off the towing business for pulling such a stunt. I did have a nice conversation with another victim about the outrageous charges and their ridiculous "management".
All-in-all, I enjoyed my time spent with Christian on Friday and Saturday. (Oh, gosh, Saturday was probably the best day of my life, but I'll spare innocent eyes of those details.) I saw planes take off very close to a highway, a beautiful sunset, clear and visibly ocean water, played L4D, created my Wii character, and so much more that I'll write you to death in a single entry.
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[27 Mar 2009|04:21am] |
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I have dyed my hair a "Wild Fire" red by Manic Panic. The color is similar to that of fire engines. Trust me when I say that it's extremely bright and I'm constantly getting stares left and right at SCC. I will supply images before it fades to a nasty strawberry-blonde or a rusty blonde.
Speaking of SCC, I haven't been doing much in the three hours of, well, not doing much. My scores are beyond the GED level. If it weren't for my age, I could have taken the test by now and be done with it. However, I'm not so busy that I can't spare three hours of my life for four days of week dedicated to boredom. Besides, I only have six more weeks left! *cheers*
As for what I am doing in class to pass the time besides the busy work that I put off day after day is writing stories for my mythological characters, Alnik and Paster. This is a project a friend started on GaiaOnline and it's really interesting. The central belief is reincarnation. "Souls are reincarnated into unfortunate circumstances if they were wicked in their last life, and into favorable circumstances if they were good. Each new life is a chance to turn themselves around." There are three levels of deities within this project: Gods and goddesses, demigods and lesser gods, and other higher beings. I've chosen to create one of the lowest levels in deities: Other higher beings. This can consist of mythological beasts or mortals with a significant power.
On that note, Alnik is a fortuneteller of sorts through smoke, wind, bones, etc. She won't be able to cast spells, but she has the ability to conjure up special medicines. Here's a spoiler for her background story to give you a vague feel of her character: "The gods cannot determine every incident and come to our aid. What use would us humans have if we are incapable to exploit power of our own? How I obtained my abilities is none of your concern, but know this: I am no god."
Following is Paster, my mythological beast. Paster has been created through three animal-like souls from an unknown land that has been attacked by ghouls. Two of these souls have had past lives of mortals. A higher deity has granted an entirely different reincarnation for the souls that will cause them to merge into one another and form a centaur-like creature to protect the unknown land.
Yes, I'm fully aware that I'm a dork, O'Halloran.
Anyway, to finish off my entry with something a bit odd, I've discovered a DIY facial mask featuring kitty litter! For those who don't know, kitty litter is clay created through volcanic ash. This mask is perfect for those who have oily skin, which I, unfortunately, do have. I'll post an update at a later date as to how this mask turned out.
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[22 Mar 2009|04:36am] |
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I'm dying my hair a bright red and cutting it short.
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[18 Mar 2009|04:29am] |
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I'm such a dork. I spend nearly all of my time--yet again--on a private server to MapleStory. I applied for a GM (Game Master) position and I, along with many others, believe I am a shooin for the job. One of the higher levels within the game also applied, but he is no where near qualified besides for successfully wasting both time (as much I do) and butchering the English language, which so happens to be a qualification to type properly with minimum mistakes. He senses that I'm huge competition and has already began backing into his corner with insults. As he's soaking in his misery, I'm laughing in his face.
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[14 Feb 2008|10:46pm] |
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